Highwayman: Ironside by Michael Arnold Read Free Book Online Page B

her. Such beauty." It had been made by a gunsmith in Rotterdam, though Lyle had picked it up after a tavern brawl on the outskirts of Rennes not long after his flight from England. It had been there that he had bade his time after his world had collapsed, and there that he had learnt a modicum of French and a great deal of swordsmanship. He lifted the pistol with both hands, for, though barely heavier than a typical English flintlock, it was longer by the length of his hand, from wrist to fingertips. He blew gently over the lock to make sure no loose powder or debris from the ride had lingered amongst the mechanism. Satisfied, he checked the strikers. There were two, which was what made this weapon so special - and so lethal. Double-barrelled handguns were rare enough, but one with only one lock was almost unheard of. This pistol had two barrels, one set above the other. When Lyle fired the piece, he need only depress the barrel release, twist the twin muzzles round, and fire again. The same lock, cock and flint would be employed, making the process swift and simple.
    Grumm stared at it. "Just don't drop the damned thing next time, Major. She's your talisman. That extra shot will save your life one day."
    The sound of Bella chuckling excitedly made both men look down at her. She had a heavily creased square of vellum in her pale hand, which she thrust under Lyle's nose. "Finally the cull cackles!"
    "What is it?" Lyle asked.
    "That prisoner, Samson. Goes by the name of James Wren."
    "Sir James Wren was a lieutenant-colonel of harquebusiers. Rivalled Prince Robber in the saddle. I fought him once."
    It was late. The last patron had staggered out into the crisp night air, and the Red Lion's heavy studded door had been locked and barred. The candles guttered, throwing eerie shapes on the whitewashed walls, while the last remnants of flame danced in the hearth. Bella had cleared away the detritus of the meal, replacing their ale with steaming pots of spiced wine, and now the three outlaws sat together at the age-scarred elm table, a strangely concocted family who knew that each night together could be their last.
    "Fought with him?" Eustace Grumm asked, staring at Lyle over the rim of his wooden pot.
    "Fought him," Lyle repeated. "A skirmish in the days before Worcester." He took a swig of wine as he remembered those frantic times when the son of the deposed king had returned to lay claim to the crown. The young king had been smashed by Cromwell's far superior New Modelled Army, a battle that had effectively put an end to the wars that had stolen a decade from the people of the British Isles. Cromwell had called Worcester a crowning mercy , but all Lyle remembered was bloodshed and panic, and a populace worn to wraiths by plague, starvation and fear. "Lucky to get out of it with my hide in one piece."
    "A king's man?" said Grumm.
    "None more so."
    Grumm raised his pot. "May he rot, then." He took a long draught, belching when he was done, and wiped his glistening beard with a grubby sleeve. His eyes narrowed as they searched Lyle's face. "And yet?"
    "And yet it would seem he now languishes in Goffe's clink," Lyle replied. "If he's to be moved down to Portsmouth, then perhaps transportation awaits."
    "Why would you care? An old enemy imprisoned by a new one."
    Lyle shrugged. "Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend, Eustace. Wren was an honourable fellow, for all his malignant allegiance, and I would see him free if it hurt the Protectorate."
    Grumm still stared hard at his friend, his blue eyes alive with suspicion. "I do not like that look."
    "You mentioned a masquerade?" Lyle said, snapping his head round to address Bella. "Hippisley's place at Hinton Ampner?"
    "Aye," Bella nodded. She clutched her pot in both hands, cradling the warm vessel against her chest as though it were full of precious gems.
    Lyle drank slowly, luxuriating in the spices that fought away the autumn eve. "Not far from here. Out to the west above the